Atonement
by i love alex
Summary: Extended ending of 1x20, Blood Brothers


A/N: Suffering severely from writers block so these things seem to be just scraping there way out of me at this point.

The missing scene from 1x20, Blood Brothers:

Thank you again for reading and all the feedback.

* * *

They don't speak during the long walk back to her car, parked on the edge of the forest or as she drives them back to the Salvatore mansion. But he can't seem to stop touching her, pressing kisses to her shoulder, the side of her face, keeping a tight hold of her hand. Quiet apologises she leans into.

She finds herself having to lead him through the house once they make it there, towards his bedroom and past the library and she almost wonders why, why he was so hesitant. But when they come through the last doorway, her answer is there; she had admittedly forgot that Damon might still be there, waiting for them.

"Little boy lost."

Elena squeezes Stefan's hand a little tighter, sure that Damon, if not being able to see it, can hear it. She doesn't love the idea of leaving Stefan alone with him.

"I'll be upstairs, okay?" She says.

It's a subtle reminder that she wasn't going to be far away but she finds it hard to let go of his hand and he sways forward, towards her, sensing her hesitation at wanting to leave him. They had learnt to speak privately, long ago, around others when not wanting to speak openly.

"Goodnight, Damon."

She doesn't linger on Damon's responsive smile that quickly drops into a hardened expression but on Stefan's fingers, not letting them go until they fell away from her of their own accord.

* * *

She had slept in his bedroom last night, having stayed by the cell door the night before and though she still has clothes left over from the past few days, she changes into his shirt she's taken to sleeping in and pulls on a pair of pyjama bottoms.

She doesn't expect their conversation to last long but she begins to pace the room, nervous, only for a few seconds before moving for his bed, exhaustion draining her faster than her mind was.

Dealing with Stefan's situation had taken it's toll on her emotionally, physically but she hadn't let herself succumb to it, she couldn't afford too but now, with it all over, it seemed to wash over her, all at once.

She's lying, curled up on her side of the bed when she can just make out the familiar sound of his boots hitting the steps leading up to his bedroom. She flicks open her eyes, not remembering closing them.

When the sound suddenly stops and she rolls herself back around to see why, she finds him there, standing by the doorway, a small, quiet smile on his face.

"Are you alright?" She asks even though she knows that he isn't; the affect of their conversation was obvious in his demeanour alone.

He's better though. He's taken the blood left for him from before, and he's better but it was going to take time for the memories of the past few days to leave him. For the memories to leave both of them.

He comes further into the room, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket and lets it fall to the floor, then pulls his wife beater up and over his head, throwing that to the floor also.

"Pants are by the chair." She mumbles, watching as he looked around for them. He nods a thanks then tugs them on.

He flicks off the lights and slides into bed beside her but keeps a distant, that, if not being so used to having his warm hand at her back, his breath across her neck, she wouldn't have noticed

"Stefan." She starts slowly; it was so quiet, she could hear her heartbeat, "What are you doing?" He's staring up into the ceiling and the space between them felt vast and heavy.

She worries about his hold of guilt, now with everything over, and how long he would carry this burden with him, of hurting her, scaring her, himself maybe.

She's not ready to find out. "Stefan," She repeats and wriggles towards him, wrapping her hand across his waist.

He tenses for a moment but just as quickly relaxes, reaching for her arm.

"I'm alright," He says, and moves his other hand under her shirt to lay it across her back and she finds it hard not to cry.

"Yeah?" She says quietly and rubs her nose into his naked shoulder, shutting her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm going to be okay." And he turns, pulling her closer, burying his face into her neck, "Better than okay."


End file.
